Salvage
by Graf Fetti
Summary: Now, I don't expect much to happen in my work. It varies time to time, but in the work of salvaging, the most that would happen is maybe stuff falling and breaking. Ghosts and crap are a thing that could happen, but usually doesn't. Well... Except for this one.
1. Chapter 1

"Look buddy, I know that my attraction was unlicensed and all, but you can't blame me for wanting to make money off of something that's a huge rumor. People love a good scare, and it can make people who can get rid of spooks look like heroes."

"Well, excuse me, BUDDY! You know about all the damn news stories about the incidents back then, even now getting press! People are still roaming for info about it. Who's to say that the shit that went down hasn't ended yet?"

"Henry, my man, you know that creepypasta crap the anchors spit out just for hype and views? The things are haunted only in that they happened to be having malfunctions at the same time tragic accidents and a nut job happened. That made things get really messy, a scapegoat cause of it all being ghost got dredged up, and then people ate that up. These kinds of things make moolah, brah."

"Look, I ain't afraid of no ghosts, but I know that ghosts or something like that is real. And the things that happened back in the 80s isn't hyped up stunts done by the media about faulty bots. Neither is the surge of filed missing person reports stemming from Fazbear Entertainment and the fact that all the missing people they reported used to be night guards for them before they vanished. Too many damn coincidences."

"Dude, chillax. Chuck E Cheese isn't going to toss you in an animatronic's costume and kill you, a la Iron Maiden. Conspiracy things like that crap are almost always fake. Besides, I already got myself a deal with an auctioneer to sell off a haunted bot, starting at five-K in cash. You already got the address, right?"

"Yeah, but who would want to pay five thousand plus dollars on something that is alleged to be possessed by vengeful ghosts? Either it's fake and they wasted money, or it's real and they have an angry spirit wrecking shit. Lose-lose for the poor sap that wants this thing."

"And easy money for us. Look, the warehouse I'm sending you too has tons of other stuff that isn't haunted, if that suits you. Heheh…"

"…I'm not amused, you prick. It's shit like this that makes me wish I never got involved in all these misadventures thanks to you."

"Lighten up, man. I promised you 50/50 in this. You get the goods, I broker it for selling. Simple as that. We got good compensation here, too."

"I still think this is stupid to do. Didn't you at least get a warrant on allowing us to go on the abandoned property?"

"…"

"Louis, you didn't get a warrant. Did you?"

"Come on, man. No one would notice. It's a warehouse in the middle of butt-crack nowhere."

"Ugh… Be glad that I'm basically the reason you aren't dead to a mafia hit or something."

"You aren't wrong, like usual. Look, once we pull this off, we'll be rolling like gangbusters."

"Or we'll end like Gangbusters."

"That's the spirit, man. Talk to ya later, Henry."

"Yeah, yeah… Bye."


	2. Chapter 2

I really didn't know why I kept helping my friend, Louis, do these ridiculous get-rich-quick schemes. Maybe because I'm not the nicest nor the brightest guy around he sticks me with these things. Just smart enough to know I'm dumb, but dumb enough to think I can hide how dumb I actually am. Easy pickings to get railroaded by sleazy assholes like him. I blame the fact that I've lived with him as a childhood friend my whole life, and that he always did something stupid for profit, for leverage, or just for shits and giggles. This is one of his profit jobs, thankfully. At least there's something tangible to gain from this. I know I could've turned him down and did a different, legitimate job, but I know my "friend" well. If I said no, he would do it himself. And the times he has done jobs of his on his own, that ends with him getting a black eye or busted balls or worse. I know that I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I'm the most durable and the best quick-save tool in said shed. My friend regularly gets himself deep into bad shit and I have to be the one saving him from himself. Eventually, I'm just going to let his self-destructive stupidity off him. But that looks to be a whole slew of schemes ahead before I stop him from dumb thrill-seeking. Meantime, I'll be heavy-lifting/damage-control guy to his damn plans.

I parked my truck in the empty lot near the loading bay. I opened up the U-Haul's back door and made sure I had all needed things. My equipment goes as follows: a crowbar, a headlamp, a screwdriver, a duffle bag (and some spare bags in the back for more stuff), a shotgun (thanks to experience with previous plans by my friend), spare shotgun shells, and a cattle prod. Louis may be skeptical of the supernatural, but there are too many coincidences that make this look more like an exorcist is needed more than just a cleaner guy. But I digress my opinions of my searches on the info. My friend that I'm obligated to help needs me to get an animatronic with a ghost, along with knick-knacks that I find for extra cash.

I put the headlamp on my brown soft-cap, letting it sit on top of my brim as it lit my way in the general direction I was looking. The crowbar, cattle prod, screwdriver, and spare ammo I put on a tool belt to be carried with me. My shotgun I had slung on my back, along with a duffle bag for carrying extra loot. From here, I was ready to walk in.

The garage door of the warehouse creaked and rattled as it was lifted up and above my head. I turned on my head lamp to see what all was here. For aisles and aisles, I saw dusty, moldy boxes with all sorts of strange things in them. Sadly, many boxes were ruined by rats and humidity. One box I passed by looked to be spare parts for an animatronic, but the only things left were rust-covered joints and rotted costume pieces. I kept wandering around, checking and looting whatever stuff looked like Louis could talk up a profit for.

I entered the aisle labeled, "ANIMATRONICS" hanging from the ceiling. This looks like the right spot. A smaller sign on the side of each aisle shelving showed that going to the right would go to the newer stuff, while going to the left would go to the older stuff. Taking faith in the notion that the Righteous choose Right, I went around the stuff at the junction of the aisle before going to the right. I grabbed a few of the heads from the discontinued Toy versions of the company's main quartet. This consisted of a rosy-cheeked bear, a blue bunny with cheeks as well, the beaked yellow bird, and a white fox. These heads looked about big enough for a person to wear, if the mechanical bits were scooped out. The colors were a little flat and washed out, but the heads were still mostly intact. Into the bag the heads went, and into the dark I thieve. I passed by some bits and pieces of the somewhat current 90s edition of the main cast. They weren't nearly as valuable as the Toy ones, but they might get some money if sold back to a museum or a collector. Besides, my friend has a serpent tongue that I just don't desire to have. Still, I grabbed some of the parts for the money. A hook, a bib, a red bow tie and a black top hat. To my surprise, the hat had inside a plastic-metal cigar with an LED bulb at the end. I think the stogie will just be a souvenir for my expedition into here, so I stuffed it into my front pocket for me to keep. Going back the way I came, I now could just go to the left back towards the truck, taking the minor stuff I got and go. However, I could go forward to the older stuff, where I might find something worth way more than the do-dads that I have now. Louis said there'd be a possessed machine somewhere here in the building, but I really don't want to put my neck out on something as ridiculous or dangerous as this. I'm technically trespassing already, so I can either leave now or get loot.


	3. Chapter 3

As much as poor old Lou will throw a hissy fit, I don't want to be here at all. He can talk a good game, but he doesn't usually have the tools, talent, or even a spine enough to back up his words. Hence why he has me as his friend. Anyway, I get back to the garage door, but something is wrong. The door was closed, despite me leaving it open before-hand. At first, I thought it was just faulty door quality. But to my quiet dread, the door wouldn't budge in the slightest when I tried pulling it up again. I tried the crowbar to give me leverage on the door, but the door gave no gap to lever in between. I went back down towards the animatronics aisle, hoping to find a map to the place or maybe keys somewhere in this place.

Looking around, the parts seemed to be stuff back when the mascots were yellow and only two. I checked through the boxes, only finding a few boxes with surviving costume pieces, since these parts were made back before they decided to give the bots plastic shells for parts or nylon felt, like the ones do now or even the late 80s. Checking the boxes with not washed away labels only confirmed this, as these boxes seemed to go as far back as the late 70s. Obviously, the costume bodies weren't exactly like A.I., the movie, but the thinking parts are still relatively advanced, even compared to stuff today. I wandered down the aisle to an abandoned office for the warehouse. Entering the office, the tiny room had a lingering smell of mildew and dust. Paranoid, I pulled out my shotgun and made sure the gun was loaded. I cautiously entered the room, not immediately seeing anything hostile. The dinky office only had a chair and a desk encircling about ¾ of the room. The only means of surveillance was four monitors, a keyboard, a mouse, and a Mac tower (from the early 2000s). Not really much here besides the lacking equipment for a guard to use. The room was frighteningly barren and devoid of the dust or rotted cardboard compared to the rest of the warehouse. Sadly, no keys or a map of the building. Shrugging, I left the room, as nothing was in here.

Suddenly, a shriek came from behind me. I klutzily leapt to the right, shouldering off the duffle bag to the ground as I landed. As I fell, whoever was trying to jump me fell to the ground as well with a clatter. I clambered away with my gun, stowing it away and pulling out the cattle prod. The thing that attacked me was a decrepit machine. It seemed like it was once a rabbit bot for the company, but it has since rotted to a sickly green-yellow. The ruined machine hissed at me. In response, I smacked it with the electrified rod and ran past the abomination towards the junction. Behind me, the machine sprinted and tackled me by the leg. I gave it a few more whacks with the cattle prod before it let go out of electric spasms. I got to the other end of the warehouse aisle, only leading to a wall. Across the way, the rogue robot attempted to get it's bearings after being shocked (physically and electrically). I put away the cattle prod and aimed my gun at it. "Hey! Back off, creep!" The machine took a moment to observe me, probably sizing me up like a lion seeing a gazelle. To my surprise, it started to run away back to the dinky office at the opposite end. This doesn't seem right. Being more armed and possibly at an advantage now, I jogged towards it, but kept a safe distance from the monster. The thing went inside the office and closed the door. I twisted the knob, but the door itself wouldn't move. Hmm... It's a smart motherfucker, I see. I didn't want to come to this abandoned warehouse, I was already really freaked out by the place, I got locked in, I got attacked, and now the thing that attacked me wants to try and hide so it can jump me again.

Obviously, I was just a bit irritated. Not really wanting to bother with knocking, since it wouldn't open the door for me anyway, I shot the hinges of the door. My gun's twin thunderous blasts echoed through the warehouse as the door fell on the ground with a dull thud. "Knock knock," said I, not wanting to pass up this moment to be a badass. The monster that ambushed me, the rotted rabbit robot, was cowering in the corner atop the desk, muttering something to itself as it covered its head. Taking a better look of the bot, he was a mess undoubtedly. The fur-suit used to costume this animatronic was eaten away and torn in places, making for small to large, jagged holes around the bunny. And the smell. Yikes. It smelled like someone died in him. One of the ear segments for this rabbit robot was completely missing. Sparking wires hung from the machine's various "wounds," so to speak.

I glared at the thing and spoke, "Hey. Hey you." I walked over and poked its foot with the end of the gun barrel.

The machine tightened up its crouching in the corner, mumbling, "Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head," to itself.

Impatient and irate, I swung the front of my gun at its shin, hitting the machine as hard as partly-athletic me could. "HEY!" I barked. It slid back startled, ceasing its muttering and staring at me. Its eyes have since faded into just being white pupils with a light in the center of each eye. Even so, there was just this gut feeling I had that said that there's sadness and fear in those eyes. "Who the hell are you?" My tone had shifted from a full anger to a stifled peeve in a blink, making the machine confused.

"...please go. I don't want to hurt you…"

"Maybe a little late for that, but not entirely. I want to know from you why you jumped me."

"Go away. I'm a monster…" The machine whimpered as it tightened up.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. At least talk to me and tell me what the fuck is happening." The machine didn't respond to me. I reached out with my hand for its shoulder. "What's your proble-"

The machine hisses at me, snapping at my hand as I jerk back. It shakes it head, then goes back to its upright-fetal crouch. "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Well, he wasn't entirely wrong. "I uh… I heard that there were possessed animatronics that run amok at night. A psycho that wore purple killed a bunch of kids, the kids' ghosts possessed the bots and took out their anger on the night guards because the mauve murderer used to do night shift. That right?"

The machine looked at me with a sad look of knowing. "Mostly…"

It might've been just me, but I swear I saw something sitting in the chair and laughing. It was purple-ish blue, and looked like a lanky guy. The image only lasted for a split second. Rubbing my eyes, I offered my hand again. The rotted machine hesitated to trust me. I can't blame him, I have a gun and a shock rod, but still. I wasn't just beating on it for the sake of smacking a mo-fo with a hard stick; that's what doing a LARP convention is for. The animatronic shakily pushed away my hand and resigned to staring at his feet. I backed a little bit away and asked, "You got a name, kid?"

"…Bernard…"

"Okay. Can I call you Ben for short?"

Bernard took a moment staring at the corner of the office I wasn't standing in and nodded. "…It's fine…" he mumbled, his ears drooping.

"Alright. It'll work. I'm Henry. Just to keep things brief, I'm not the nicest guy around, but I'm your best chance at leaving." Ben looked away, probably out of child-like shyness. I put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to get him to look at me face-to-face. "Look, I'm here to take salvageable stuff from this place to an auction. You are coming too, since you are the big thing people want."

"But…" I stop to listen to Ben. "…well, what if I don't want to go?"

"No skin off my nose if you want to wither in the warehouse. All I want is out of here and in bed."

Ben glances out the side window and then looks back to me with his cracked eyes. "I don't like being here. It's lonely."

I rolled my eyes. "Crushing. If you want to stay here, fine. If you want to come with me, sure. Maybe we can look for some plushies to take so you won't be so lonely on the way out."

Ben gave me an indignant look in response. "But wouldn't you just give them away?"

Crap. He's on to me. "Not-not all of them. Only some of them."

"…can I choose which stay and which go?"

"Yeeeeeeaaaaaaah… that works, I guess…" On the one hand, my friend will be whining at me for not getting a bunch of stuff to sell. On the other, this can be a subtle revenge thing against him for getting me into this particular job with this particular mess. Besides, Ben seems as close to a haunted robot as what he wanted me to get. Ben, having been mostly convinced of what I offered, got off the desk and stared at the ground. "So, you want to leave this dump and be sent someplace better?"

Ben shrugged. "…w-well… No one else came here to help me leave…" he mumbled, "I'll follow you. Only because you're letting me go to a better place."


	4. Chapter 4

I wandered through the warehouse with Bernard following behind. Eventually, we came to the merchandise storage aisle. Almost all the shelves were empty except for on box at the far end of the aisle. I looked through the boxes, hoping to find more stuff to collect. I have four heads in the bag now, but I might be able to fit more things in. Although, keys to a door out would be nice.

"What are you doing?" asked Ben.

"Looking for stuff to collect and also the damn map to this place." I thought back to the office I saw earlier and remembered the computer. "Does this place still have power?"

"W-well, there-there was some people that was here before that left a generator here."

"Why did someone leave a generator here?!" I exclaimed. Ben shrunk back from me and shrugged. I guess I scare him. The irony wasn't lost on me. I groaned, "Whatever. I'm going to boot up the generator and see if the office system has a map."

Ben pointed over to a dark corner of the warehouse. "It's that way." He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself like Ben could feel cold. "I don't like the dark. I'll wait here with the plushies. It's safer here."

"Alright. I'm going to the generator that some idiots left in this God-forsaken place." Ben nodded as I set off. I wandered my way to the darkened corner of the storage place. I made sure my headlamp was on and I crept forward into the void. I saw the old Yamaha portable gas generator. There was some fuel left in it and a few logos still scrawled on it. The logos made out that these were rental generators from a local hardware store. One that didn't seem to exist. Hmm. The plot thickens. Someone else tried being here to loot stuff. But strangely, no bags of things or bodies were where I was. Any-hoo, I pull the ripcord a few times and get the loud as hell motor running. The wires plugged into the generator snaked along the ground, one of which led to a now lit lamp aimed over an overturned box. The makeshift desk had some legal papers scattered about for legal collection of the stuff in this abandoned warehouse and, better yet, a map! Jackpot! I grabbed the map and warrants, folding them neatly in my pocket with the stogie. The other papers I just stuffed in the bag with the heads and all. Figuring that I would check on Ben, I walked back to where Ben and I found the plushies. I stopped a few yards away from him to see what Ben was doing from a distance.

Ben was playing with the plushies of the newer bots, and having them surround a single plushie made from scratch. It didn't look like anything that the company had, but it looked like a patchwork doll a kid would've made. The doll itself looked sort of like Sackboy from Little Big Planet. He slid the plushies around and grinning (as best a fixed jaw could grin). It actually seemed kinda cute for the bunny to do. One of the plushies got moved next to the patchwork doll, and then Ben ripped the doll's head off.


	5. Chapter 5

I ran down the aisles and sprinted towards the truck, not stopping for a second. Ben has gone off the deep end, no questions about it. I got half way to the garage door, but something grabbed my leg and tripped me. I fell to the ground and got dragged across the floor. I only got to glance at my leg, but I saw that a dark-purple arm was what grabbed me. The arm belonged to the same lanky ghost I saw in the office earlier. He carried me off as I flailed on the ground, in an attempt to escape the ghost. He stopped near the aisle where Bernard stayed. He looked like he was turned off, but there was an unnatural smoke emanating from his mouth and eyes. The ghost threw me at the aisle shelf, hitting the rack hard. My body ached not just from being thrown like a sack of taters.

"Well now…" said the ghost with a snicker. "It's been a long while since I've seen someone. I get dreadfully lonely." I rasped from the tossing, to which he tossed me against the other shelf. "I'm a little surprised to see that someone decided to visit. Haven't you heard the rumors?" He made a sinister chuckle at my face as I struggled to get up, but he just brought a crate down on me, shattering it into splinters just so I would get wood shards in me instead of just getting crushed. I covered my head. I shot off my shotgun, but to no effect. The ghost just laughed at me. "You're feisty, I'll give you that. It makes the killing so much more rewarding." The ghost passed over Ben and entered through the smoking mouth. The animatronic's systems soon sputtered back on, but it wasn't Bernard that spoke. The voice that came through was a static-y, distorted mutilation of Bernard's more shy voice. "I think I'll like killing you slowly. Just like the rest of the night men."

He tossed a large chunk of wood at me, but I blew it into a cloud of dust with a scatter of buckshot. "Why don't you stay dead, Ghastly?" I remarked. Sadly, this is where things go horribly wrong. I charged forward like a dumbass and got back-handed by the bunny bot. I flew off against a shelf and slammed my head into the metal pole. Everything was getting dizzy in my sight, so I dragged myself away from Bernard/purple-ghost. This only got me a kick in the gut, and then a kick in the head while I was down. At this point, I blacked out, with my last thoughts being "My only regret is burning down my parents' kitchen".


	6. Chapter 6

I groaned as I got up, rubbing my head where I got my skull cracked. My head had a small stream of blood drizzling down behind my ear. I was slumped over on the desk, dragged into the small office from before, now with power to the office thanks to the generator. The screens in front of me were lit with three camera views and one digital map of the warehouse. I'm getting very Jigsaw vibes right now from that poltergeist. It also doesn't help that I'm now seeing that the last people that tried coming here were actually the first things in the camera views, strung up by bare metal wires at their hands, feet, and necks. I don't want to keep thinking about the corpses. I hate gory crap like that. I don't know where they were hidden beforehand, but right now, I don't care. I just don't want to end up like them. Not wanting to play a stupid game, I walked over to the door (which was put back up for some reason) and tried opening it. No. No, no, no, nooooooo! The door is shut tight! The bastard probably barricaded the damn thing while I was out. Clever. I grabbed the swivel chair and used it like a battering ram. After about twenty or so tries, I got worn out. I ripped off a part of my sleeve and wrapped it around the head-wound on the back of my skull. My head was pounding. Probably as expected.

The computer speakers buzzed and frizzed out the distorted sound of the evil spirit's voice. "Wakey, wakey. I want to see you squirm."

"Yeah, well fuck you too."

"Tut, tut. Now then, let's play a game, shall we?"

Well, that confirms it. This ghost guy is a sadistic motherfucker. "How about NO?!"

The spirit laughed, "You wish! I have something else in mind." The computer screens all changed to a view of Bernard standing near the generator. "You have three minute to get out of the room before your power runs out and dearest Ben will break you in twain. Tick tock," he snickered. I had no time to wait. I grabbed the chair again and began bashing the window instead, hoping for an escape from the office, the likes of which would cause envy in the Kool-aid guy. After breaking the glass enough to push out the shards, I squeezed through. I hobbled my way back upright and made a dash for the corner where Ben was. On my way through, I found my cattle prod laying on the ground near the plushies. I picked it up and held it tightly in hand. I had to make it to the generator now.


	7. Chapter 7

Bernard stood in place, staring emptily at the ceiling with blank eyes. The wires from the generator run directly through him, seemingly using Ben like a power extension. Behind me, I heard the purple poltergeist's voice again, now from the old animatronic. I didn't know if I should be demanding to free Ben or to free me. I mean, self-preservation and all, but Ben seemed like he wasn't that bad. Naïve, but not ignorant.

"Hmm… I must say, I never expected you to actually escape through the wall. Not planned, but no matter. You're not going to leave alive anyway, unless you'd like to sacrifice your new friend instead." His emphasis on that last word made my heart freeze and my chest weigh heavier than before.

I mustered a question to the evil spirit. "What's it to you? You just like causing pain?" I only got an unnerving chuckle, warped by machine noises. I grumbled, "Let him go."

"Hmm?"

I held out my cattle prod like a sword and commanded, "I said let him go."

Ben reached for the cords in himself from the generator, but then went back. "I don't feel like it," said the ghost through the animatronic. The machine began to hiss at me, like before. I tensed up with a step back. Ben leaped at me with an ear-piercing shriek. I was in too bad a state to avoid the attack this time. I got knocked down to the ground with Ben squeezing on my neck. I wasn't dead immediately from a neck snap, so that ghost is making this take longer on purpose, the sadistic fuck. With all the might I could muster, I thrusted my cattle prod somewhere near the circuitry of Ben, causing him to reel back, electrified. A quick glance showed me that my strike had actually done something to the ghost inhabiting Ben, since the smoke was starting to fade away from him. Dragging myself away, I claw myself towards the generator, only to be lifted up by my shirt collar. Bernard's body had thick, vile smoke pouring out from his "wounds" and his mouth, his eyes appearing as solid black orbs. I couldn't make out what was hissed at me by the ghost through Ben's horrifically static-filled voice, but I could tell that he didn't like when there was large spikes or valleys in energy. I bat my cow-shocking baton at the monster's head and dove over the generator. I grabbed an alligator-clamp cord and latched my cattle prod to the cord, ripping out some of the wires from the possessed rabbit robot; I could smell the ozone around my electrified rod. Ben backed away from me; I wouldn't blame him for being afraid of a frizzy-haired guy holding a metal rod with enough electricity to kill an elephant.

I couldn't help but grin a bit as I was taking a stupid action. I snarked to the possesed rabbit, "You feel lucky?" The ghost hissed between my question. "Well, do you punk?"

"*unintelligible, hostile static noises*" roared the monster before me.

"Well I feel like a million bucks. Spin to win, bitch!" I charged forward and stabbed Ben through the chest right to his inner workings. The last thing I remember seeing is Ben writhing on the floor while I was doing the same a few feet away before going unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

I really got to remember to think plans out before doing things. I guess that's why Louis is my friend after all. As dumb as some of his schemes can get, at least he thinks them out before sending me out to do something. I got up from the ground, letting my fried cattle prod sit on the floor after having been melted with the sheer amount of power it had discharged and limped my way back to the office. My gun was actually sitting on the desk, along with the crowbar and light I had earlier. Ben, maybe? Or maybe the ghost is wanting to screw with my head again. Just to be sure I didn't have any residual electricity in me, I tried zapping the doorknob, but thankfully nothing happened. Putting away the light and using my shotgun as a cane, I made over to the garage door. To my surprise, Ben was actually stayed near the door with the bag of things I already had. I didn't know if I should shoot the rabbit in the knee or if I should give the thing a hug, but my face expressed that dilemma clearly to him. Well, minus the serious head and gut injuries on me.

"Oh my God, Henry!" Bernard was the one speaking this time instead of that poltergeist, so I can guess that I won't have to shoot him. "I'm so sorry! He just took over while you were away. I tried to fight him, but-"

I held up my index finger in a hushing gesture. I shook my head and hobbled to the bag Ben held. "You got all the stuff I got, yeah?" I asked, unzipping the duffle bag and taking stock. Everything I collected before seems to still be there, along with some of the plushies Ben was playing with.

"I also took some other things, because I thought it might make up for what happened."

"And the purple guy in question?"

Ben held up a limp plushie of himself in his hand. "I think there's a box we can put him into, just so he won't get out."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Why is he in the plushie now instead of you?"

Ben shrugged, keeping the plushie in his hands. "I guess he got worn out by getting zapped so much. Ghosts are made of conductive stuff, right?"

Seems legit. "Okay… Well, first things first, is we get a lockbox to lock up Chucky, and then we need to find a bridge and toss the little shit off said bridge. If he was as violent in life as he is in death, the world is better off if he's at Davy J's."

Bernard nodded. "How are we going to get out?"

"Open the door."

"R-right, but how are we getting out?"

I gave him a blank expression and deadpanned, "Open the door, please." Ben didn't quite understand what I meant until a few moments later. He made a face of realization and then went to the garage door. With a little struggling, whatever was locking the door shut broke and the whole garage barrier lifted. "Thank you, Bernard."

Ben looked away flattered and helped me to the truck. "Should we stop by a hospital?"

"Only after getting more bags of stuff and dropping you off at the auction."

"But…you don't look good."

I gave him a dismissive hand wave. "It's nothing, it's nothing. I've survived getting shot in both legs and even getting stabbed in the gut. If you really want, you drive. Just expect to have cops pull you over and maybe even shoot at you. After all, how often does a guy see robot bunny zombies driving U-hauls with a very badly injured guy riding shotgun while holding a shotgun?" Deciding not to argue with me, Bernard nodded, getting into the passenger seat. "Right. If it helps you feel better, you can still help me with driving. If I start getting the truck out of line, you have permission to grab the wheel and set the course right."

"…I don't know how to drive…" he mumbled, his ears drooping down on his head.

I chuckled, "Don't worry about it. All you need to worry about is that the wheel changes how far left or right the car goes. It's intuitive, so you won't need much else to know how to steer."

Bernard nodded, wringing his bare-metal hands together with metallic scrapes and clacking. I had Ben sit near the truck while I went back into the warehouse to find more stuff to take, though the trip was much shorter than I expected. At this point, I think I have enough to pay for hospital bills and still profit from the share of the cash.


	9. Chapter 9

Roughly fifteen minutes of scavenging, a shaky start of driving the U-haul, a lockbox purchase, some miles of highway driven over, and only one instance of Ben steering to keep the truck straight later, we arrived at the ocean front. "Is this the place?" asked Ben.

"Yep. Get the shrimp and send him to sea, if you'd please." Bernard went over to the back of the truck and grabbed the safe. "Alright. Just throw him as hard as you can."

"I've waited a long time to get rid of him," muttered Bernard, heaving the safe up and then outward as it sailed gracefully across the sea in the same way the ground-safes usually don't. With a quiet sploosh, the little angry ghost was sinking into the bay. Bernard sighed, looking like a great weight was removed from him. As for me, I think shock was still in effect, as I still didn't really notice my injuries any more than mild tingling. "Henry…"

I turned to look at the rotted animatronic. "Yeah?"

"Do I have to go away? T-to the auction, I mean..." mumbled Ben. I had to think long and hard on this. Not wanting to give an answer, I stared off to where we tossed the poltergeist's prison. He gently put his hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. Maybe more that he wants me to comfort him. "I-I know that things have gotten kind of messy… I'm sorry about what I did."

"*sigh* Look, it ain't your fault. Honestly, if you weren't alive, I would've took you and sent you for sale without really hesitating that much. But… Well… You walk and talk like a living fella; a kid, if I'm frank with you. I think it's probably better you choose instead of me. I'm not a nice guy, I know, but I'm not that heartless..."

Ben leaned against my shoulder like a little brother would. My nerves were still a little raw from being a human tesla coil, but I tried my best to hide my wince. "I just want to be somewhere safe. I don't want to be anywhere that could have this happen again…" he whimpered. I gave the poor thing a hug just as he started to cry tearless weeps.

"It's okay, bud. Things will be better. Trust me," I said in a hushed tone. I helped Ben back to the passenger seat of the U-haul. While he stayed in his seat, I went to the back of the truck and got one of the plushies. It was a plushie of a cute little cupcake. "Hey Ben, I have something for you." I hand him the little toy, seeing his eyes light up with a little more happiness.

He sniffled, "Th-th-thank you." Ben cuddled the little cupcake toy, smiling with all the care and wonder of a child. I grinned as I went back to the driver's seat. I took a moment just sitting in the seat, thinking of some way to help Bernard. He isn't malicious from what I've seen. It wouldn't be right to just treat him like an object. He deserves a better place than wherever he was before that got him in the warehouse in such a state.

Soon, a lightbulb lit somewhere in my head. "Ben. I think I can do something for you."

"Hmm?"

"My friend, the guy who's putting the stuff and you to auction? He owes me a favor or two for all the crap I've done for him so he doesn't do it himself."

Ben tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can get him to rig the auction to go in favor of one person or another. You and I can find the guy who has the best place for you, and then he can set it up in favor of the best match. What do you say?"

"…isn't that cheating?"

"Well, that's what my friend does. I'm just his handy-man that keeps his asinine plans from backfiring or at least from backfiring hard. He owes me for all the shit I do for him, anyway."

"…can you promise me a good home?"

I shrugged. "Sure. You're going to help me decide who you want to go to, anyway."

Ben considered my offer for a bit, and then spoke to the cupcake toy, "Chuck, what do you think?" The plushie stared back at Ben, and then Bernard nodded. "Chuck says that you aren't lying." Gee. Fantastic news. "Are we going to go to the auction now?"

I nodded and set the truck to drive. "Right-o, Ben."


	10. Epilouge

TEN MONTHS LATER

I arrived at the new pizza place Bernard was at, All-Stars' Amazing Pizza. The auction profit that Louis and I got was actually about $2,500 dollars for him and me each, despite the numbers for everything reaching past 20 grand. The other $15,000 (ish) went to the auctioneers for "convincing" on Louis' part. Still, it's a profit in my book. I even convinced my friend to spend however much of his into paying my medical bills at the same time as for rigging the auction to a philanthropic entrepreneur. For Lou's sake, it was only about a grand to pay the doctors to fix me up. Anyway, I sat off to the side in a booth watching Bernard holding a microphone and doing what he was designed to do. Entertain kids. The pizza place manager/owner was the guy who bought him, and I'd have to say it was a solid investment, despite Louis' serpentine skills. Ben has been a big hit and the business was booming. While he was stationed with animatronics that weren't nearly as advanced as him, he didn't really mind. He seemed to be just happy that he didn't have some murderous ghost using him as a puppet.

Ben finished his show for the kids and the curtain closed. I walked into the backstage to catch-up with him. Since the auction, Ben had gotten repaired to peak condition. All the internal wiring and frame work was fixed and his rotted fur suit was replaced with brand new nylon fur-suit pieces all over him. His sickly hue was replaced with a yellow-gold color. He even got upgrades to his facial expressions and to his fine-dexterity. Otherwise, all of Bernard was kept the same; even his missing ear segment was still gone, but he seemed to be a lot better now. The kid didn't mind the missing ear bit. I waved at him as he went to put away his mic. "Hey Ben."

He turned around, pleasantly surprised. "Oh! Hey Henry. Long time no see?"

"Heh, yeah. You look a hell of a lot better than when shit went down like our first meet, yeah?"

Ben cringed, "Could you tone down your language? There are kids here!"

I blinked, but then realized what he meant. "Oh shin-digs! I'm sorry. Almost slipped my mind."

The rabbit grinned at my slip of the tongue. "Just try not to forget." Ben and I chuckled. "Anyway, what brings you here? I saw you in the crowd with the parents."

I shrugged. "Y'know. Just checking in on you. Seeing how your new work is treating you."

"Things have actually gotten a lot better since you took me away from the horrible place and tried to fight the horrible man."

I rubbed the back of my head, both out of humility and out of remembering how I got a kick that field-goal kicker couldn't match in the back of my head. "Really? Like what?"

"Well, for starters, this place's night guard and I are best friends now."

"What's his name?"

He opened up with a romantic sigh, looking off at the upper rafters of the stage. "Her name is Julie," said Ben, dreamily.

I snorted a stifled laugh, just imagining how that worked out. I'm a little curious now. "So they're a woman, I see. What's she like?"

"She's real sweet and a cutie to boot! She chose her job because she loved animatronics as a kid, and her seeing me is like a dream come true for her."

I nodded, noticing a wooden chest with what looks like a fox tail hanging out of the open lid. "Does that also explain why there is also people costume pieces of a fox in that box back there?"

Ben snapped out of his love-daze and saw where I was looking. He hastily put away the costume parts into the chest, seeing the lid with the label of "Nite-gard'z" in all the bad spelling and black-sharpie. "Sh-she likes going to costume parties. I thought here was a good place to keep it when she doesn't want to wear it."

I could tell he was bullshitting me, but I didn't have the heart or the allowed vulgarity to point it out to his face. The chick's a Furry, I guess. No harm, no foul. I smirked and put my hands in my pocket. "That's real sweet of you to do. Anything else of late?"

"Not really. What about you? I didn't see you since I got sold to here."

"I got my hospital check on that day, and I was going to be fine. A few weeks after getting a clean bill of health, I went right to this legit job I have at this other pizza place, a rival one."

"Oh, you mean the Freddy and Friend's Pizza. What do you do there?"

"Minimum wage jobs. Currently, I'm a cook, but I burnt the kitchen down twice now and my boss isn't letting me leave. I swear, if I end up causing another fire, I'm just going to quit being a cook."

Ben put his hand to his jaw in thought. He offered, "You can be the door man."

I chuckled, "Yeah, but they wouldn't let me shoot hinges off. But yeah, I know what you mean."

Ben and I laughed and chatted away. It was only until after talking about odd-job working that Ben started to get a little down. "Do you think we'll meet again?"

"I… don't know for sure," I said in a semi-defeated voice. Ben's ears drooped and seemed sad again. "You have Chuck and Julie, right?"

"…right… They are nice, but I guess I missed you for a while."

I nodded, "Yeah. I know." I puzzled in thought.

Reaching into my pockets, I handed him the plastic-metal stogie. "I found this at the warehouse way back and thought I would keep it. You know how to use it?"

"Wireless connection to the device. Light up on command. It's something that only Fredbear could do, but he showed me how to connect to it."

"Well, maybe you should keep it. Just as a souvenir and relic to remember me by. If I do come back, show me the cigar so I recognize you, okay?" Ben nods and puts the fake cigar in his forearm costume piece. "You be good, kid. Alright?"

"I will. And you be you, right?"

I smiled and held my hand up as a show of honor. "I do solemnly swear to still be stubborn jerk who has the best of intentions for as long as I live."

Ben gives me a high five and smiles. "Right! Now, mister Henry. You have work to do."

"Indeed, indeed. Take care, Bernard."

"Goodbye Henry."

With that, I stepped off stage.


End file.
